


Cauterize

by Jetpuffedmarsh



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Eskel doesn't either but oh boy does it come close, Gen, Hurt Eskel (The Witcher), Mild Hurt/Comfort, Vesemir doesnt die because fuck that, author is new to writing, no beta we die like vesemir
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 08:16:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29731002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jetpuffedmarsh/pseuds/Jetpuffedmarsh
Summary: But what if instead of Vesemir defending Ciri during the battle of Kaer Morhen, it was Eskel?
Relationships: Eskel & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Eskel & Lambert (The Witcher), Eskel & Vesemir (The Witcher), Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Lambert, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Vesemir
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16





	Cauterize

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic I've ever posted so be gentle. Criticism is welcome.

The first thing Geralt registered was that the biting cold was slowly fading, coming to his senses he broke through the thin ice keeping him in place. A hand landed on his shoulder and he whirled around, taking in Lambert's beaten face right next to his. 

Before he could say anything however both of their heads snapped around at the sound of a cry for help. 

Without a word both of the witchers ran in the direction of the call, pounding past the thawing corpses of the wild hunts soldiers and hounds. Rounding a corner and finally laying their eyes upon the main courtyard, all the color drained from Geralt's face; casting a quick glance at Lambert, he didn’t look very composed either. 

It looked more than just a few bombs had gone off in the vicinity, covering the once fairly neat open space into a mess of rubble, bodies, and blood. In the middle was Ciri, Yennefer, and Vesemir all gathered around a body Geralt had no trouble recognizing as Eskel, from the red studded armor. Ciri was crouched next to him, hands on his side as she looked up desperately at the other two next to her. From what Geralt could tell Yennefer and Vesemir were having an argument, as he got closer he caught what they were saying.

Yennfer was pacing in a short line next to them as she said in a frantic almost shout.

“I don’t know! Imlerith’s blade must have been forged with some sort of otherworldly magic! It’s completely foreign to me!”

“Well you either better figure it out quick or we’ll need to do this the hard way!” Vesemir responded with uncharacteristic panic in his voice.

The rest of the conversation went unnoticed by Geralt as he dropped to his knees by Eskels’s side, gaping at the giant gash along his stomach and side. Ciri’s hands were covering part of it as she desperately tried to staunch the blood gushing from the ghastly wound. 

“How did-” Geralt's question was cut off by Ciri’s snapped response.

“Imlerith. Yennefer says she can’t close it with magic since his blade was enchanted.” 

Lambert appeared at Geralt's side, putting pressure on Eskel's wound as well.

“Fuck, how many potions did he down? It looks like his veins are about to pop!” 

With his brother's words, Geralt cast his gaze upon Eskel’s face, finally noticing the deep black veins standing out starkly against his paper-white skin. Years of witcher training told Geralt that one more potion and Eskel would have overdosed. 

In a daze, Geralt started stripping off the material around the slash in Eskel's abdomen, careful of the hands of his fellow witchers trying to keep the rush of blood in. Just as he finished his hurried task, Vesemir dropped down on Eskel’s other side. 

“None of the sorceresses can do a thing, wound was made by an enchanted blade-”

Geralt cut him off. “I heard. What do we need to do? He can’t take any more potions.”

Vesemir looked grim as he surveyed the gash in Eskel’s side, blood still oozing onto the ground despite the two sets of hands trying in vain to keep it in. “We need to cauterize it with fire.” 

Geralt gaped at him for a moment before shutting his mouth. “If it gives him a chance..” 

Vesemir turned his gaze to the other two witchers who were listening in. “Lambert, your igni sign is stronger than any of ours.” Lambert looked like he was going to interrupt but Vesemir kept going “I’ll guide you. Ciri, Geralt you’ll need to hold him down, we’re going to be burning him purposefully and he’ll try to throw Lambert off.” Ciri nodded and moved to hold Eskels legs down.

“And you?” Geralt asked as he got ready to put his full weight on Eskels chest if need be.

Vesemir shifted and put both of his hands on either side of Eskel’s pale face.  “Axii. Hard to charm a witcher but it should help calm him some” 

“As calm as he can be with me burning a hole in his stomach,” Lambert said with the usual rough humor in his voice nowhere to be found. 

Vesemir ignored him and traced the sign for Axii in the air, Eskels body which had been at that point giving the occasional shudder, stilled completely. Even though he knew it was due to the calming magic Vesemir was doing, it still disturbed him to see Eskel lying so still in a pool of his own blood. 

Vesemir gave a nod to Lambert, who conjured a flame in his hand, and with a little focus, it turned blue and concentration. Ciri and Geralt took this as the signal to start putting pressure on the prone figure underneath them.

With one grim look at his brothers face, and a whispered-

“I’m sorry.”

  
Lambert shoved the flame right into the deep slice in Eskels abdomen. 

The reaction was immediate- A loud, pained shout, and a moment later Geralt suddenly found himself flat on his back on the grass, startled at having been flung backward by his, until that moment, completely unconscious fellow witcher. Gathering himself quickly he flung himself forwards and back onto Eskels chest, noting that Ciri had been thrown backward as well, as she scrambled to keep a hold of Eskels now thrashing legs. With both of them pushing Eskel back onto the ground, Lambert shoved the fire back into the still bleeding gash.

That's when the screaming started. 

Now that he was being pinned a little more thoroughly, the fire in Lambert's hand had started to travel down the wound and now Eskels skin had started smoking. A deep guttural scream ripped its way through Eskels throat. 

Geralt felt completely helpless as he held his lifelong friend’s torso down as he thrashed and writhed in pain, the smell of burning flesh filling the air. 

Vesemir had given up on casting Axii and was now concentrating on holding Eskels shoulders and arms down as he watched his surrogate son retch and scream as Lambert reached the halfway point. 

Unfortunately, this did not mean it was going to become easier, on the contrary, they were now nearing the point at which the wound was deepest. Eskels thrashing was becoming hard for even Geralt to hold onto, mingled with the unspeakable terror of being forced to listen to his brother scream his lungs out. 

Geralt glanced back at Ciri and felt with a small relief that Zoltan had appeared to help her hold down Eskels other leg and stop her from being kicked in the face. 

Geraltt realized with renewed horror that Eskels screaming was now intermingled with words, incoherent mostly. Geralt tried to pretend he hadn’t heard the words “Please” and “Stop-hurts” in the mostly unintelligible cries. Geralt turned his face away as the smell of burning flesh became stronger, he cast a glance at Lambert who looked like he was either about to cry or throw up. Intense concentration furrowed his brow as he burned the edges of the wound, finally extinguishing the flames, sitting back on his heels, and burying his face in his hands.

Geralt gently released his death grip on Eskels shoulders, no doubt leaving bruises from the pressure he had to apply, forcing Eskel to remain on the ground. Looking up he realized Roche was also there, Geralt must have been too distracted to notice him as he came up behind him and held Eskels abdomen still for Lambert to work. 

Looking down at his brother's face, Geralt noted that his eyes were open, although he was sure Eskel was not fully conscious. Geralt leaned in to put his hands on Eskels face, more to ground himself than Eskel. There was no reaction from him apart from the continued gasping and heaving of his chest. Small whimpers being pushed past his lips in between gasps for air. 

Lambert slowly stood from his kneeling position and surely would have toppled over if it wasn’t for Triss’s steadying hand on his arms and shoulders, as she guided him to sit on a nearby ledge. 

Geralt made eye contact with Vesemir who was using Axii on Eskel again, probably to get his breathing under control. A lot of unspoken words passed between them at that moment, and Geralt knew that while his brother may have stopped bleeding, the shock was just as likely to kill him. The next few days would be crucial. 

Vesemir nodded at Geralt and moved to slowly pick Eskel up, hooking his arms underneath his eldest son's knees and torso. Geralt watched, trusting Vesemir's ability to move his brother safely. 

Geralt slowly rose to his feet and immediately swayed as his adrenaline crashed. Roche appeared at his side, slinging Geralt's arm over his own shoulder.

“You think he’s gonna be alright?” Roche said, steering Geralt to sit next to Lambert.

Triss answered for him, gazing at Vesemirs retreating back, carrying Eskel into the keep. “If he survives the next 24 hours, probably.” She said with a grimace. 

Geralt looked around the area fully, eyeing Ciri and Zoltan sitting against a wall talking quietly. Hjalmar and Folan stood nearby, looking out of place and rightfully horrified. Geralt didn't blame them, even though they had only just met Eskel, hearing someone scream like that would disturb anyone. 

Ermion, Geralt felt a sudden rush of gratitude, had cast a spell, and was magically cleaning the sizable pool of blood Eskel had left behind. 

Geralt looked back at Lambert, who was slumped over with his hands in his face. Geralt leaned over to his younger brother and spoke in a soft whisper. 

“Are you alright?”

Lambert looked up at him grimly, his eyes bloodshot and full of tears. He didn’t say anything, just put his face back into his hands and let out a soft sob. 

Geralt understood. Lambert had just had to purposefully cause extreme pain and suffering to his own brother, and he wasn’t given much of a choice about it. Even if it did save his life in the long run, it was still a horrible thing to be forced to do. Geralt had no doubt that forcing flames into his brother's open wound had hurt Lambert just as much as it had hurt Eskel. 

Geralt jumped as a voice broke the stony silence, Vesemir had walked back into the courtyard. He must have finished taking care of Eskel, although Geralt was unaware that a large amount of time had passed. 

“No use standing around in this…” Vesemir gestured to the disgusting sight around them, the courtyard was full of bodies, soldiers, and hounds alike. Not to mention the place where they had to perform the impromptu field medicine. It wasn’t covered in Eskel’s blood anymore, thanks to Ermion but it still had a scorch mark on the ground when Eskel had thrown them all back. Geralt could still make out the scent of burnt flesh too, Lambert probably could as well, judging by the disgusted look on his face. 

Geralt started to rise to his feet but was stopped by a gentle hand on his chest, Yennefers. 

He looked up at her questioningly. 

“Go sit with him. The rest of us will clean up this mess.” She said not unkindly.  Geralt considered arguing, but the urge to watch over his brother won over and he nodded.  Yennefer released him and brushed her hand briefly against his cheek before she walked away to help the others clean up the bodies.  Geralt looked over at Lambert who was already back on his feet, waiting for him. 

Wordlessly the two walked back into the keep, Geralt slowing his pace to match Lamberts, who was clearly drained from the excessive sign use.  Geralt reached Eskel’s room first and opened the door to see his brother, completely and expectedly out cold on the bed. Lambert went inside and instead of pulling up a chair to Eskels bedside, he simply laid down on the bed next to his older brother.  Geralt followed suit, sitting on Eskels' other side, leaning back against the headboard. He stroked a hand down Eskel’s arm and side, taking care not to mess up the careful bandaging Vesemir must have applied earlier. 

Geralt looked down at Lambert, laying next to Eskel. His eyelids were drooping slowly. He laid a hand over his younger brothers. 

“Sleep. I’ll watch him.” Geralt said simply, in a hushed voice. 

Lambert nodded, too exhausted to argue. Putting a hand over Eskels chest and closing his eyes, the youngest wolf finally surrendered to the pull of sleep. 

Geralt tipped his head back against the bed and started his watch over his long and careful watch over his eldest and youngest brother. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
